


Three of Swords, Nine of Cups

by Bright_Elen, rogueshadows



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Bodhi Rook, POV Cassian Andor, POV Luke Skywalker, Polyamory, Yo dawg I heard you like rare pairs, mutual pining hat trick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-12 00:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11725761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/pseuds/Bright_Elen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/pseuds/rogueshadows
Summary: Three of Swords: sadness, loneliness, heartbreak, separation and grief.Nine of Cups: Wishes fulfilled, comfort, happiness, satisfaction.





	Three of Swords, Nine of Cups

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misskatieleigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh/gifts).



Every time Draven puts a commendation into Cassian’s file, the spy nods acknowledgement and then absolutely refuses to accept any medals or public recognition. The last thing he wants is a tangible reminder of the things he’s done, and having people there to witness it just makes it worse.

However, after the Battle of Yavin, he’s told in no uncertain terms that he will stand on the stage and accept the medal on pain of a two-week suspension. And that would be added after he’s cleared by medical, which won’t happen for another two weeks. It’s fighting dirty; all the brass know that Cassian can barely tolerate three days of leave in a row, let alone thirty.

So there Cassian stands, rows and rows of rebels in front of him, lined up next to Jyn and the Guardians and the princess’s rescuers, hating every minute of it. The worst part is that Bodhi, who both deserves the accolades and would actually enjoy them, is still in a coma.

Cassian would gladly trade places.

Mothma is making her introductory speech, and Cassian stands at attention, staring straight ahead, but he can’t get his mind out of the med wing. Nobody else except the medical staff and maybe Jyn know how much time he spends there, talking to Bodhi about anything and everything. Yesterday he brought down Kay’s back up disk and tinkered with it on his data pad, asking Bodhi if he thought Kay would hate him if he was reincarnated as a protocol droid. The pilot didn’t answer, of course, and Cassian lamented the fact that he didn’t know him well enough to have any idea what his answer would be.

He hopes he’ll have the chance to find out.

Applause yanks Cassian back to the present. Now the princess of Alderaan is smiling at the crowd. She makes her statement, then walks down the line of heroes, putting a medal on each in turn.

Well, not the droids. Kay will have something to say about that once he’s up and about again.

Cassian accepts his medal with reserve. The princess smiles sadly at him, and he thinks maybe she has some idea of what his career has cost.

Then it’s over, the Yavin heroes hugging each other, and then all of them are waving at the crowd and shaking each other’s hands. Cassian numbly goes along, giving the same nod to the wookiee, smuggler and pilot each.

Then he goes back to his place in the infirmary next to Bodhi.

* * *

“Skywalker will need a guide. Someone who knows the moon,” Mothma is saying, and Cassian’s jaw tightens. She’s going to send one of the Jedhans, he can tell.  _ Hasn’t she thought about what she’s asking? _

“Rook,” she says, nodding at Bodhi. His face falls for only a moment before he schools it back into a placid expression.

“Thank you for having faith in me,” he says to Mothma. His hands flutter once, twice. When Mothma looks away, they start shaking.

Cassian shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide his displeasure. Only months ago Bodhi watched his whole world crumble and now here he stands, ready to do anything for the Alliance. Even Cassian feels shaken at the thought of returning to the desert moon, and it hadn’t been his homeworld.

As Mon goes deeper into the briefing, about the way the moon's rotation had destabilized and life there will likely die out entirely in the next twenty years, Cassian looks over at Bodhi. 

He’s toying with his goggles, no longer meeting anyone’s eyes. Cassian makes his choice then.

After the briefing, Cassian leverages his status and experience to change the mission roster. It isn’t hard; he’s resourceful and has contacts on Jedha that weren’t in the holy city. Besides, there’s another mission that involves gambling, and Cassian’s seen Bodhi wipe the floor with any and all sabacc opponents who mistake his gentleness for vulnerability.

Cassian doesn’t have time to tell Bodhi himself. He hopes he at least gets a chance to say goodbye.

* * *

From Cassian’s vantage point across the hangar the next morning, Bodhi seems lighter. He, Jyn and Han Solo are going to meet a contact in a casino on Ahakista. Bodhi stands next to the  _ Falcon _ and smiles brightly, talking to Chewbacca in a hilariously bad Shyriiwook. Cassian is about to leave him to it, content to know he’ll be safe, when Bodhi spots him and runs over.

“Are you going to let me go off in that death trap without saying goodbye?” he asks, smiling.

“It’s held together this long,” he responds with a smile of his own. Seeing Bodhi awake and happy makes it easy. “And you should at least try to enjoy yourself. We don’t all get to go off to pleasure planets.”

“We don’t all get to go with a Jedi either,” Bodhi says, sounding a little wistful. His gaze has drifted back over to the  _ Falcon,  _ where Skywalker has now appeared and is talking to Solo.

Cassian isn’t sure whether Bodhi’s pining is religious or personal; the pang in his chest seems to indicate that he really hopes it’s the former. Now that he’s paying attention, he realizes that the bright smile and golden hair that make Skywalker a perfect poster boy for the Alliance might also attract other kinds of attention. Bodhi’s interest shouldn’t surprise him.

He wishes that his own mission had a more specific end date than ‘two or three weeks from now.’ It would make it easier to tell Bodhi that they could all share a meal and get to know each other better.

And even if the Rogue One pilot is looking at someone else, the sooner Cassian sees Bodhi again, the better he’ll feel.

“We’ll have to swap stories when we get back,” Cassian says, clapping him on the shoulder. Bodhi turn back to him and looks like he’s about to say something when Solo calls out.

“Hey, Rook! Five minutes!”

Bodhi puts a hand on Cassian’s arm and squeezes before turning back towards the  _ Falcon. _

Cassian falls into step with him.

“Hi!” Skywalker says, more cheerful than Cassian thinks he’s been in his entire life. “I’m Luke. You’re Major Andor and Lieutenant Rook, right?”

“Bodhi is fine,” says Bodhi, shaking Skywalker’s hand, eyes wide.

Cassian swallows his jealousy and shakes hands too.

“You better watch out with this kid,” Solo says to Cassian. “He has a nose for trouble.”

“Duly noted,” Cassian says, trying not to sigh out loud. His eyes slide to Jyn, who raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to say anything. “Lieutenant Erso’s great to have if you need anything - or anyone - broken.”

Jyn snorts, but her mouth’s curling at the edges.

“She and Lieutenant Rook will get the job done no matter what,” he finishes, fixing Solo with a stare. “If anything happens to either of them, I know who to blame.”

“Calm down, Major,” Solo says, hands spread disarmingly. “I’m good at getting out of trouble. Just ask the Princess.”

Skywalker snickers. Cassian glances over, sees him and Bodhi sharing a suppressed laugh. He turns back quickly, wishes the group a good mission and safe return.

“May the Force be with you,” Bodhi says, looking at Cassian, and Cassian isn’t sure he likes the surge of emotion that gives him.

“And with you,” Cassian answers.

It’s the most religious statement he’s made in years.

The  _ Falcon  _ boards, and Cassian and Skywalker make their way to their ship. He feels a little guilty for not making an effort to talk to Skywalker before, especially considering how he’d fired the last shot against the Death Star. Cassian supposes he’ll have the chance now. He watches Skywalker as he makes his goodbyes to his flight squadron, kind and intensely sincere to everyone. Then he jogs back over, visibly tamping down on his facial expression.

It’s kind of charming that the galaxy’s last Jedi, who also happens to be the guy who fired the impossible shot to kill the Death Star, is trying to act more serious so that Cassian has a better opinion of him. Maybe he’s trying to prove something, that he’s more than a flash in the pan. Cassian can’t blame him. The need to show older rebels your worth is a feeling Cassian is very, very familiar with.

* * *

* * *

Major Andor - Luke is trying to think of him with his title so he doesn’t slip up when he’s speaking - seems pleasantly surprised that Luke moves around the shuttle with ease and listens to his instructions. He’s such a forbidding person, face looking like it’s carved in stone most of the time, that Luke can’t help but worry that he’s trying too hard, or talking too much, or just generally being annoying.

Funny. Luke doesn’t worry about annoying anyone else.

“So, you’ve been with the Alliance a long time, right?” Luke says as they lift off, trying to make conversation.

Major Andor nods without looking away from the controls. “Yeah. Since I was thirteen.”

Luke almost whistles, but catches himself. “Wow. I guess I’ve been flying that long. Just a beat up T-16 though.” He hopes Andor will say something.

He doesn’t. The silence stretches out.

“I’m from Tatooine,” Luke offers. “I’d never left until everything with the Death Star.”

More silence. Luke is opening his mouth to speak-

“Fest.” Andor says, still staring straight ahead. “I’m from Fest. Cold. Urban. Lots of mountains.”

Luke nods.

A few moments pass.

Leia would know what to say. She probably mastered the art of conversation at age ten. He makes a note to ask her for some tips, after they get back, but that doesn’t help him now. He probably should just meditate or something, but there’s something about Andor that makes Luke want to find out what’s behind all the gruffness.

“What do you like to do for fun?” he asks.

The Major turns to examine Luke, like he isn’t quite sure he heard him correctly. 

Luke leans back in his seat, eyebrows raised in expectation.

“Look, Skywalker, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you’re just wasting your time,” Andor says. “I’m not a conversationalist. I work, I sleep, I get drunk sometimes. That’s it.”

“If that’s true,” Luke says, half disbelieving and half appalled, “then someone getting you to relax won’t be a waste of time at all.”

“I am what I am,” Andor says, and he isn’t proud or even defensive, just sort of...resigned. Luke is starting to think that maybe he should just leave the Major alone. 

“Turning me into a project won’t change that. It will only make things harder on both of us. Better not to try at all.”

Andor shouldn’t have said that. The words set off a flare of defiance in Luke’s chest, and he has to turn away to hide a smile. Aunt Beru had always scolded him for being contrary.  _ ‘The surest way to get you to do something,’  _ she’d complained,  _ ‘is to tell you you can’t do it.’ _

He spends the rest of the flight thinking about things that might get Andor to let himself be human.

When they break out of hyperspace the moon looms before them unlike anything Luke has witnessed before. He hears Andor’s intake of breath, neither of them speaking, stricken by the sight. The atmosphere on one side churns in darkness with only the flash of electrical storms distinguishing it from the void. The day side is dead still with rusty smears of haze. He takes readings as they approach; the rotation has slowed since the briefing and he wonders how it could possibly last for the expected twenty years like this.

The initial shock fades from Andor’s face back to his usual impassive expression as he looks down to the controls and sets the coordinates for the landing site his contact had sent. Luke wishes he knew what to say; the Major isn’t from Jedha, but he’s visited it enough to know it well, and for the first time he’s seeing the effects of the Death Star on a familiar place.

“Do you know if Bodhi’s ever talked to Leia?” Luke asks suddenly.

Andor blinks. “I...no, I don’t know,” he says. Flies them a little farther in silence. “I don’t think so.”

“She’s never talked about it to me,” Luke says. “I guess because it’s too painful. Has Bodhi…”

Andor shakes his head, once. “Not that I know of. He gets disoriented sometimes, thinks he’s back here. But that’s not the same.” He sighs. “I try not to pry. But maybe someone who went through something similar...It could be a good idea.”

Barring mission briefing, that’s the most Andor has ever said in Luke’s presence. And with the most emotion; his voice even sounded the slightest bit hopeful at the end.

“He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”

Andor looks away. That’s all the response Luke gets, and for once, he doesn’t push it. It isn’t his business.

They both sit in silence as they enter the atmosphere, at the dawn edge of the day side, the air turbulent from the changing temperature. It feels like the ship could shake apart but Luke has survived the  _ Millennium Falcon  _ so he keeps his cool. Mostly. Not enough to hide his nerves from Andor, who gives him what he thinks is supposed to be a comforting smile, just the smallest uptick at the corner of his lips.

“I’ve been through worse,” the Major says, adjusting their vector slightly to get them more quickly out of the rough outer layer. Then they’re through and Luke can breathe again. 

Visibility is still terrible, the windshield just a wall of tan dust, but the instruments are all working and Andor knows what he’s doing. He’s been doing this much longer than Luke has, after all.

Since he was thirteen. Luke can’t help but marvel at that and wonder what Andor’s life must have been like, in the Alliance so young. At thirteen Luke had been building model ships and riding dewbacks into the desert, not trying to save the galaxy.

His thoughts are cut off as they come in low enough to see the vague shapes of the remaining landscape, valleys and rock formations stretching out beneath them, and Luke almost thinks the village is a mirage until Andor acknowledges it.

“It’s abandoned, but we can check it out if you’d like. We’re landing just over this next ridge. It’s close to an inhabited settlement too, but out of their lines of sight. It’s safer for everyone if the Empire’s still here.”

None of the Alliance contacts had been able to say if the Empire is still keeping an eye on Jedha. Confirming it one way or the other is the secondary objective of their mission.

The ship sets down without issue. Andor gets up and stretches, spine popping. Luke turns to unbuckle his harness and finds his face inches from Andor, and more particularly, the four or so centimeters of skin exposed at his waistline. Luke’s mouth goes dry at the hint of muscular definition, and more so at the trail of dark hair leading down from the other man’s navel.

Turning to the other buckle to hide his flush, Luke reminds himself that he is an adult with self-control, that they’re on an important mission, that Andor and Bodhi are interested in each other.

He mostly succeeds.

“I’m notifying my contact we’re here,” the Major explains. “I’ll be a minute. You can take a look around if you want, Skywalker, just stay close.”

“Sure, I’ll see what I can make out through the haze,” Luke says, taking the hint to leave the Major to his work. He goes to the side of the ship and presses the button panel that opens the door. Cold air sweeps into the cabin, a kind of weather Luke is still getting used to, but the sand is jarring in its familiarity. Shaking it off, he leaves the ship.

The answer to that turns out to be ‘not much.’ He can see the nearest rock towers and mesas, shadows in the dust of those further away, and then, nothing, not even the ghost town he knows is there.

“Toka says there are only a couple more hours of daylight,” Andor says behind him. “We can sleep here tonight and ride the speeder out tomorrow to meet her.”

It makes sense. “Do we have time to see if there’s anything in the abandoned village?”

Andor nods, and they get the speeder bike.

It’s a short ride to the outskirts of the town, even shorter to get to the central plaza. A few market stalls are still there, awnings collapsed, tables bare. After they park not even a breeze stirs what’s left.

“No rotten food,” Andor comments. “Most of these people had some warning before they had to leave.” 

“Seems likely,” Luke agrees. “I hope they got somewhere safe.”

Andor just nods, and they make their way through the village. At first they knock on doors and call into the buildings before entering, but soon it’s apparent that they’re the only sentient beings in town.

There’s a small temple near the plaza. The alcoves meant to hold holy objects are empty, and Luke is half disappointed and half glad that the people were able to take their relics with them. Andor finds a collection of religious texts on datapads, and Luke stuffs them into his pack to read later.

They spend another hour in the town, but find nothing else, so before night can fall they return to their ship. Luke breaks out the rations, adding water and heating them into something resembling real food, while Andor writes up report notes.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Luke asks once they’re both eating.

Andor pauses, eyes going distant. “You ever hear of Samovar?”

Luke shakes his head.

“It was beautiful. A Legacy World, protected,” Andor says, sadness creeping along the edges of his voice. “But it was rich in doonium and dolovite, so the Empire circumvented the regulations and took what it wanted. It’s mostly storms and dust, now. Plenty of abandoned settlements.” He shakes his head. “They needed the minerals for the Death Star. It destroyed planets even before it was finished.”

Luke swallows his anger and the lump in his throat. “What was it like here before?”

Andor takes another bite before answering. “You could see forever, all the mesas and canyons of in the distance. The sky was blue. The people were crowded together in the cities and towns, very colorful, lots of different cultures mixed together.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

The Major frowns. “Well, yes. There was lots of poverty, too, and the Holy City was right under the Empire’s thumb.”

Luke nods. “I’m really glad Bodhi didn’t have to see this. It was a good thing you did, taking his place.”

Andor looks at Luke sharply, then sighs. “Nobody should have to see this happen to their homeworld.”

“No,” Luke agrees.

* * *

The next morning, they ride out to a town in another direction, the one that still has people. Andor discusses details of the Jedhan emigration and possible signs of Imperial influence with Ral Toka, his contact.

While Andor does that, Luke walks through the town. He finds the market square, but no temple.

“Uh, excuse me.” Luke approaches the woman with a weathered face selling ceramics under an awning. “Hi, I’m Luke, I’m visiting.”

The woman snorts. “That’s plain as day.”

He waits a beat for her to introduce herself. She doesn’t.

“I was wondering, is there a temple here? I saw one in the abandoned town and I’m surprised that there isn’t one on the square here.”

The potter gives him a flat look. “That’s our business, boy.”

Luke blinks.  “Oh, it’s private? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He’s never been somewhere that both had a temple and didn’t want to talk about it.

“Hmph.” The woman seems a bit mollified by his apology.

“Actually,” Luke says, “I’m studying to...I’m studying the Jedi. I was hoping I’d be able to talk to someone who knows more about them. Or look at some reading material. Anything, really.”

Eyes narrowing more with each word Luke says, the woman finally shakes her head. “Look around. This world is dying. Whatever we have left, we’re keeping for ourselves.”

Luke deflates.

He moves on, keeps looking, but in the hour Andor gave him, he finds neither the temple nor anyone willing to talk to him.

They ride back to the ship. The clouded sky remains the same, the only difference being a slight buildup of dust on the shuttle. Andor’s mouth twists and he tosses some tarps with magnetic edges to Luke so he can protect the air intakes.

When Luke comes back inside, Andor is writing up more report notes.

“From what Ral said, and from my own observations, the Empire really has left,” Andor says as Luke shakes sand from his hair and takes his seat.

“Well,” Luke says, “that’s at least one thing we don’t have to worry about.”

Andor nods. “What about you?”

Luke sighs and sinks down deeper into his chair. “Nobody would talk to me. After everything they don’t trust outsiders very much, not that I blame them.” He glances at Andor. “I don’t suppose they’ve trusted you with ancient Jedi secrets?”

Andor shakes his head and goes back to writing.

Luke lets his head fall back against the seat. He decides to allow five minutes to feel sorry for himself.

“Well,” Andor says a few minutes later. “They didn’t tell me anything, but there were ruins near NiJedha. Huge statues carved to look like Jedi. And catacombs. I don’t know if there were more or if any survived, but that might be something.” He sighs ruefully. “Sorry I don’t have any details.”

Luke thinks for a moment, then turns to grin at the Major. “I have an idea. I’ll be back.”

“You’re not going to find anything close by,” Andor protests. “We’ve already been to the only two places.”

Luke scratches the back of his head, a little embarrassed by his lack of skills. “I...if I concentrate, I might be able to sense something. That’s how I made the kill shot; I let the Force guide me.” 

Frowning, Andor looks nonplussed. Luke leaves the ship again.

There’s no wind, just cold air, diffuse light, and dust falling slowly from the sky. He sits on the ground cross legged and closes his eyes.

He concentrates on his breathing, as Ben showed him what feels like years ago on the  _ Falcon,  _ and tries not to follow any trains of thought. Or get caught up in grief and regret. Or irrational anger that Ben left him without a guide.

Smiling wryly, Luke realizes he’s already gotten caught up in his thoughts, and tries again. Just breathing and his goal on his mind.

After a while, images start to occur to him, things he’s never seen before: Night falling like a wall of darkness. A particular stone formation rising from a valley floor. Rocks piled on one another, rubble leading down a huge slope, wind and lightning and dust. Stars shining inside a cave.

Blinking, Luke finds himself back on the ground. He grins.

“I had a vision,” he tells Andor. “We have to go to the edge of the crater.”

Andor’s expression clouds over. Luke is sure he’s going to refuse, or argue, but after a moment of contemplation, the Major nods once, terse. “No promises, but we’ll see how close we can get.”

Luke smiles.“Great.”

“I’ll pack the speeder.” Andor sets himself to the task in silence. Luke doesn’t object, glad that the spy is letting him take the lead even with such an audacious request.

It’s an hour by the speeder bike, maybe a little less. The dust gets thicker as they approach, and ten minutes out they start passing huge boulders sunk into the ground at the ends of long gouges in the earth. Those get more numerous as the sky darkens and the wind picks up. Luke sits behind Andor, one arm around his waist, the other free to point so they can change course based on what the Force tells him. The frigid wind, the layers of clothes, and the apocalyptic landscape all make it surprisingly easy to ignore how close he is to Andor.

“There,” Luke says, recognizing the rock formations from his vision. “That’s it.”

Andor takes them in slow, just high enough to avoid the worst of the rubble, and sets them down between a cluster of boulders and the rock formation itself. The entrance to the cave has been modified into a doorway, though if there was ever a door it’s gone now. The area just beyond it has been widened into a large octagonal area - a receiving room, Luke guesses - with some script carvings on the walls. He rushes over eagerly, but discovers that they’re in a language neither he nor Andor read - ancient Jedhan, probably. They make a circuit of the room, Luke holding the lantern on the carvings and Andor recording them on holo.

The Major keeps glancing back over their shoulders. Luke knows it’s his job to be looking out for danger but it’s a little lonely not to be sharing the spiritual side of things. He finds himself wondering if Bodhi would be interested, or if it would be callous to talk about anything related to Jedha.

Even if he can’t read the carvings, Luke thinks he can feel...something. When they pass the second threshold out of the entry area, the walls are no longer straight, the floor is uneven, and stalagmites force their path to wind between them. The etchings are no longer continuous but still present, made at intervals when the path comes close to a wall, and Luke wonders what instructions or scripture he’s missing. 

It’s beautiful and frustrating.

This second room is much bigger than the first, and takes longer to map, but the path winds in a loop, taking them back towards the entrance, no other doorways visible from the route. They’re halfway back, Andor methodically recording the carvings, when Luke hears...something. Like a lullaby sung two rooms away.

He turns around and follows the sound to the back of the cave, leaving Andor behind. Soon he’s left the path, climbing around stalagmites, and comes to the back wall.

What he’d thought was a solid face of rock isn’t. There’s a crack, big enough for someone to walk through, hidden from view by the angle. A shock of excitement speeds Luke’s pulse, and he practically runs back to Andor to show him.

* * *

* * *

Skywalker reappears, looking thrilled and babbling on about a discovery he wants Cassian to explore with him. Trying not to think too much about Saw’s hideout, Cassian follows.

“There were dug-out passages like these near the holy city, and I’ve heard about others,” Cassian says. “I don’t know how it hasn’t collapsed, this close to the blast.”

Once they leave the second room, there’s no light but what they’ve brought with them, the darkness growing or diminishing depending on the size of the passageway. 

“Can you shut that off a second?” Skywalker asks eventually. Cassian shrugs and complies, plunging them into utter blackness. He can’t even tell the difference between having his eyes open or closed.

Well, almost. As his eyes adjust, he begins to perceive a faint glow ahead.

“Looks like some light up there,” he says.

“You see it too? This is great!” Before Cassian turns the lantern back on, Skywalker takes off at a brisk pace and promptly trips.

Cassian manages to catch Skywalker before he hits the ground and pulls him back upright, hard enough that Luke ends up with his back against Cassian’s chest. It feels far better than Cassian wants it to. Heat rushes to his skin and he lets go like he’s been burned.

“Th-thanks,” Luke says, sounding at least as flustered as Cassian feels.

“You still need light,” Cassian says, and turns his lantern on again, away from both their faces. Skywalker laughs and shrugs.

It should be annoying, Cassian thinks, not endearing.

They continue more carefully, approaching the source of the glow, and as they draw closer Cassian can see that it’s a crystalline structure. He’s seen other mineral deposits, but none so beautiful, light undulating within the clear stones. When they’re sure of their ground, he turns the lantern off again, and it’s like stars have taken up residence underground.

If he’s impressed, then Skywalker must be overwhelmed. The younger man gets closer, delicately pressing his hand to a smaller piece edging out from the wall. Cassian finds himself, completely against his will, captivated by the calm expression on Luke’s face and the soft smile that plays across his lips.

Silently, he curses himself. He does not need this. Especially with how obvious it is that Luke and Bodhi are interested in each other. 

Skywalker gently grasps the single crystal and pulls it loose from its place. Cassian is surprised it came so easily and wonders if it’s part of Luke’s powers.

“What does it feel like?” Cassian asks, curious. 

Luke smiles and thinks a moment before speaking.

“It’s like holding a star,” he answers, sounding a bit sheepish at his figurative description even as he says it.

Even so, Cassian thinks he might understand.

“Can I?” he asks, holding out his hand. 

Surprised, Luke slides the crystal shard into his hand. It’s lighter than Cassian imagined and he wonders if the warmth is from Luke’s hand or from the power it carries within. Maybe both. Maybe one responds to the other.

Luke is looking at him with some emotion Cassian can’t quite put his finger on, but it feels good. He’s about to say how glad he is that Luke at least found one of the things he’d been looking for when the ground jolts beneath their feet and the cave echoes with the rumble. Everything sways slightly and Cassian reacts as quickly as he can, pressing the kyber crystal into his pocket, grabbing Luke’s hand and running, trying to get them out safely without breaking their necks in the low light. Lower now than before; Luke must have lost his lantern. It feels like Saw’s catacombs crumbling around him all over again and he has no time to be thinking like that. Rocks fall behind them heavily and Cassian refuses to look back, running until the shaking stops as suddenly as it has started. In that moment Cassian lurches forward and drops his lantern. It lands poorly and breaks, leaving them in back in the directionless dark.

That, at least, is different from before. Cassian’s out of breath, dizzy with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, left with only what he can feel and the sounds of two men breathing in the dark. He only eases his hard grip on Luke’s hand when the Jedi pulls away, murmuring something.

There’s a strange hum and a burst of white-blue light between them. Luke holds his lightsaber up to stave off the dark, his blue eyes looking unreal in the glow of it. He smiles at Cassian, finally catching his own breath.

Cassian leans back against the cool stone wall to get a handle on himself, still feeling like his heart may bolt from his chest. He winces at the twinge in his knee, an injury from Scarif that’s never healed right and doesn’t do well with sudden sprints over uneven ground.

“You okay?” Luke asks and Cassian nods, not wanting to explain. Luke accepts the answer and looks around at where they are.

“I can see where we came in, hold on,” he says, moving past Cassian up the small incline to the passageway. Cassian figures he’ll follow when his leg feels more steady.

“So, we’re a little stuck,” Luke says, keeping his voice more or less level despite his obvious distress.

“Of course we are,” Cassian responds with a sigh. He’d figured as much. He pushes off the wall pushing aside his pain and goes up to see if there’s anything to do other than comm out to Toka and hope the signal reaches.

Luke stands staring at the large boulders blocking their way. He does nothing for a moment before pressing the blade of his lightsaber to the stone experimentally, causing a hiss that makes Cassian flinch. The blade doesn’t seem to do much, penetrating only a few centimeters even as Luke applies more pressure. There’s definitely no way it can cut through, not before the two of them die of dehydration.

Luke looks beyond frustrated at the result, nearly pouting as he speaks. “If we had a lever and fulcrum we could try and pry it out,” he says.

Cassian suppresses a laugh; Luke doesn’t know his old code name and he’s beginning to look devastated besides. Cassian knows they could both use a moment to collect themselves.

“Let’s just sit down and think, I have my comm if worse comes to worse,” he says, keeping his voice calm. Luke nods and sits leaning his back against the wall, Cassian easing himself down to join him. Luke shuts his eyes, maybe in meditation. Cassian watches, hoping he’s as in tune with the Force as the rumors say.

After a few minutes Luke gets up again, takes a shaky breath and turns to Cassian. “I’m going to try something...don’t laugh if I look too ridiculous. And, um, stand back. Just in case.”

The trepidation Cassian feels about that statement overcomes his pain easily, and he gets up and moves a few paces back as instructed.

“Oh, and hold this,” Luke adds suddenly. He slides the handle of the still-blazing lightsaber into Cassian’s hand, careful not to let it deactivate. The electric hum of the weapon just under Cassian’s fingertips - not to mention the heat of it ionizing the air around it - can’t help but intimidate him a little. He shifts the weightless blade with care and looks on as Luke outstretches his arms before the stone, shutting his eyes in intense concentration. He knows about the powers the Jedi were supposed to have had, but wonders if Luke has enough experience and strength for this.

For a moment nothing happens. Then Cassian hears a sound in the stillness, the scrape of the stones shifting away and he can’t hold back his small gasp. He isn’t often awed but he feels it as he watches Luke clear the path without touching anything.

The cave-in isn’t as bad as Cassian had feared; only about a dozen stones block their path. When it’s cleared Luke stands still, breathing heavily like he’s run for hours, hands shaking. His eyes blink open and he looks exhausted.

Cassian speaks softly, handing him back the lightsaber. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He presses his hand to Luke’s lower back, gently ushering him forward.

When they reach the entrance chamber he notes that night has brought storms too fierce to ride through. Luke’s face falls, looking at Cassian apologetically. 

“We’ll make camp here,” Cassian says calmly. “The outer chamber is solid enough.”

The words seem to stave off Luke’s guilt a bit as he leans back against the stone wall.

Cassian retrieves two sleeping bags and a jacket from the speeder bike, remembering how Luke hates the cold.

Luke looks like he might fall asleep right where he is. He yawns a thank you as Cassian hands him the gear, looking mildly embarrassed for having gone so catatonic. He slips on the jacket and settles into the sleeping bag but doesn’t shut his eyes just yet, instead watching Cassian from where he lies as if waiting for him to settle in too.

If he is, it’s very thoughtful but also ridiculous.

And sweet. Cassian hadn’t imagined he’d become fond of Luke at the outset of the mission, but the Jedi-in-training has grown on him.

“Go to sleep, Luke,” he says, and is glad for the sleepy smile it elicits.

He has an impulse to go lie next to Luke, and he frowns. Wonderful. He isn’t good for Bodhi, wouldn’t be good for Luke either, and anyway he’s probably just tired and hurt and wanting to get back to base. He wonders how Bodhi’s doing on the casino mission, if he’s beaten Solo at sabacc yet.

He allows himself one last soft glance at Luke before he shuts his eyes, and promises himself that he’ll be nothing but professional starting tomorrow.

* * *

* * *

The next morning, Luke feels relief when Cassian - it’s Cassian, now, after last night - announces he wants to go back to base now if Luke agrees. 

With the tension of the mission finally lifting, they chat idly over their breakfast of ration bars. Luke finally manages to get Cassian talking when he brings up Bodhi.

”Have you gone on many missions together?” he asks, knowing how close they are. 

“He’s usually off flying longer runs, not intel, but the few times we’ve had have been pretty interesting. I swear he’s better at talking his way out of things than I am,” Cassian says with pride and affection in his tone. He goes on to elaborate, telling a tale of Bodhi talking them out of detainment with a drawn out and truly ridiculous explanation. Luke can picture it, knowing how sincere Bodhi comes off and how bright he is. Even after he finishes speaking Cassian looks at ease even at the mere thought of the pilot.

Luke wonders if Cassian even realizes he’s in love with Bodhi.

If Luke’s read Bodhi right, the pilot feels the same way about Cassian. Luke really hopes they’ll figure it out, even if it means he can’t have a chance with Bodhi. They’ve both lived hard lives, before and after Scarif, and they deserve to be happy.

He’s been silent for a few moments when Cassian speaks up. “I’m sorry we didn’t find more intelligence about the Jedi, Luke.”

Luke shakes off his thoughts, trying to focus on the matters at hand. “It’s disappointing, especially with how little training and background I have,” he says. His fists tighten on the sleeping bag. “If I really am the last Jedi, I have a responsibility. I have to learn as much as I can so I can face Vader. And after that, I want to pass on what I know, so that I’m not the last any more.” He punches the bag back into its container and wrestles it closed. “Realistically no one should expect much from a clueless farm boy with no resources, but I don’t have the luxury of realistic expectations.” He glares at the bedroll. “None of us do.”

He’s still brooding when Cassian puts a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s been a long time since I thought the Force cared about people,” he says, something almost like hope in his eyes. “But you care, Luke. And the Force is with you. So maybe now it’s with the rest of us, too.”

It’s faith, Luke realizes. He isn’t sure if it’s in the Force or in him or both, but suddenly he knows beyond any doubt that he wants to be worthy of Cassian Andor’s faith.

“Thank you.” He tries to come up with something else to say, but can’t.

Cassian claps his shoulder and turns, then stops. “Oh, the crystal,” he says, taking it out of his pocket. “I forgot I had it.”

Luke looks at the kyber lying on Cassian’s rough palm, hand hovering over it.

“You hang on to it,” he says, and closes Cassian’s fingers around it. “There’s already one in my light saber, and I’ll let you know if I need that one.”

Several emotions flash over Cassian’s face too fast for Luke to read them all - he catches surprise and gratitude, at least. 

“All right,” he says, voice a little gruff, and puts the crystal back in his pocket, carefully zipping it shut.

The ride back to the ship is uneventful, and doesn’t require the Force, just the ship’s beacon and Cassian’s receiver. Getting ready to go doesn't take much time at all.

After they take the shuttle up through the wind shears and thermals and sudden falls of the atmosphere and break free, Luke watches Cassian’s face. The crease in his brow and the set of his shoulders loosen, and he makes hyperspace calculations calmly.

“I wish I had as much purpose and focus as you do, Cassian,” Luke says. 

Proving him right, Cassian finishes what he’s doing before looking at Luke in the blue light of hyperspace. 

“It’s easy to have those when you don’t have anything else,” Cassian says. “You don’t need to be like me. In fact, I don’t recommend it.”

A deep sympathy and admiration crowd Luke’s chest and transmute into tenderness. “You have friends, too, you know,” he says. “You have Leia, Han, Jyn. You have me,” he adds, trying not to put too much emphasis on it. The next one hurts, but the hope it brings is greater than the pain. “You have Bodhi.”

Cassian takes an audible breath, goes back to the controls, monitors them unnecessarily for a moment.

“I guess I do,” he says later, and it’s somewhere between a concession and a revelation.

Luke is glad.

* * *

* * *

Looking around the table at his opponents, Bodhi doesn’t smile. He doesn’t fidget. His eyes don’t roam and his voice is steady when he speaks. Lately it feels like he’s only ever this calm with adrenaline rushing through his system.

The player to his right calls, and everyone shows their cards. As he sees the other hands, Bodhi grins. The dealer droid reads his cards.

“Ten of Sabers, Ten of Flasks, Nine and Eleven of Staves, and The Star: twenty three.”

Across from him, Han Solo stares at Bodhi and Bodhi’s cards. It’s one of the best pole-axed expressions Bodhi’s ever seen, and he’s seen plenty. It’s almost as good as winning itself. Bodhi wishes Luke were there to enjoy it; the Jedi’s friendly rivalry with Han was famous among rebels, and Bodhi was sure Luke would treasure the outraged betrayal on the smugglers’ face.

“How did you even...it’s not fair! You shouldn't have been able to -” Han cuts off, glares, curses as Bodhi rakes in his winnings, and storms away to the bar. If Solo’s mood is exaggerated, Bodhi can’t tell. He thinks Cassian would be pleased that his skills helped create a more convincing cover, and maybe also enjoy Han’s bruised ego, though he wouldn’t show it like Luke. 

Still flush with victory, Bodhi cashes out, keeping half an eye on the bar the whole time. Solo has switched from a generalized sulk into a rant directed at the bartender. The plan is for him to slip a code phrase, get a drink, and then go sulk in a corner where the contact can meet him. Han’s certainly convinced everyone there that Bodhi is no friend of his, which will allow Han to befriend the underworld contact, Bodhi to get close to the corrupt Imperial official who had the most to gain from the criminal’s downfall, and Jyn to act as a go-between.

It works. The three of them milk intelligence from each with promises that it will be used to burn the other, and neither party figures it out before the rebels are on their way home.

While they’re in hyperspace, Bodhi thinks. He’s glad that his gambling habit has proven useful to the Alliance. After paying back Mothma the credits she’d allotted them for the buy-ins and splitting the rest with Han, Jyn, and Chewie, he’ll still have enough to save for a rainy day. He hasn’t had money of his own for a long time and it makes him feel a bit more secure. He’s happy. 

But that’s not all he is. Underneath his well-earned good humor, he thinks about Jedha. In the briefing he’d learned that the crater where the holy city had been is huge, spanning hundreds of miles. Now it’s not a city or even a landscape, really, but a wasteland of rubble and volcanic activity where the crust is damaged. Much of the atmosphere was ionized into hydrogen by the Death Star’s superlaser, which started a mass extinction event. NiJedha is now a massive dust cloud that blankets the entire moon.

Just thinking about it sets Bodhi on the verge of another breakdown. He starts a breathing exercise and tries to think about other things. If he has to think about Jedha, maybe he can think about Luke and Cassian’s mission. He wonders which settlements they’ll visit, how many people are left, if anyone will talk to them. He thinks so; Luke is friendly and Cassian makes people trust him. He hopes they’ll be able to have traditional Jedhan food and that not everyone will be living on emergency rations. He wonders if they’ll find the Jedi remnants Luke is looking for.

Bodhi worries about their safety, of course - he worries almost every second of his life that isn’t awash in adrenaline - but they’re the two people he has the most faith in, so at least he has hope to counterbalance it.

The  _ Falcon  _ returns to base several days before the Jedha team is scheduled to be back. Bodhi spends the time helping the mechanics, finding extra coats and blankets for himself and anyone he sees shivering too much, and examining the Alliance’s stock of droids and droid parts. It’s not fantastic. Unless he wants to be a cleaning droid, K-2 is going to have to wait.

Luke and Cassian return only a little late. Bodhi happens to be in the hangar, working on a de-icer wand. He deliberately finishes tightening a bolt, puts the tools in their box, and tries to walk to their ship at a reasonable pace.

Cassian is the first to disembark. He sees Bodhi immediately, a small, tired smile lighting his face briefly before he finds someone to unload the speeder bike.

“Welcome back,” Bodhi says, and he can’t keep the relief from his voice.

Cassian nods. “It’s good to be home.” He’s standing close enough that Bodhi starts getting ideas - daydreams, really. Bodhi tries to focus on reality, on the fact that Cassian reaches out to grip his forearm, so he smiles and squeezes back. Then he has to wonder if Cassian’s face is really showing tenderness or if he’s just projecting.

He’s probably projecting.

Then Luke comes trotting down the ramp. “Bodhi!” He smiles big and bright, and wraps an arm around Bodhi’s shoulders before he or Cassian can move. Even in the frigid hangar, even through several layers of outerwear, Luke is warm. Bodhi would love to relax into that heat, but Cassian’s fingers are slipping from his arm. Torn, he does nothing.

Is it horribly greedy of him to want both? He’s at least heard of three people all choosing each other.

Not that it probably matters. There are plenty of reasons why neither of them would be interested in Bodhi.

Luke at least doesn’t seem bothered by Bodhi’s failure to respond, just thumps his back and claps Cassian on the shoulder. “I’ll get the ship taken care of and then I’ll meet you in debrief, okay Cassian?”

Bodhi’s eyebrows raise at his use of Cassian’s first name. Something’s changed. 

Cassian nods to Bodhi as he leaves, face closing again.

Bodhi returns to his project and tries to be happy. The important thing is that they’re back safely. Maybe at dinner he can spend more time with them.

* * *

“And then, after I put blood and sweat into cheating just right, this guy, who by the way is a good enough liar to convince me that he was new to sabacc, won the whole damn pot!” Han complains, loudly, but with a smile on his face. “I didn’t have to pretend I was angry with him, that’s for sure.”

Bodhi grins. “You should have seen his face,” he says to Luke, then demonstrates. Luke, Jyn, the Guardians, and Leia all laugh. Cassian doesn’t, but his smile is genuine, eyes crinkling at the corners, and it melts Bodhi’s heart just a little.

“We didn’t do quite so well on our mission,” Luke says with a rueful smile. “One crystal and a few religious books that have been long on philosophy and short on practical knowledge.” 

“That’s more than you had before,” Cassian points out. Luke acknowledges this with a nod.

“Besides,” Cassian adds to the group, gesturing with his fork, “he dug us out of a cave-in by himself. Lifted huge stones with the Force. It was amazing.”

Luke ducks his head, embarrassed but smiling. Cassian continues eating as if he hasn’t just given the strongest public praise anyone at the table’s ever heard him give.

Bodhi’s so in love with both of them, he realizes. Painfully, because they’re clearly in love with each other. He takes a drink to cover his emotions. Tries not to feel too sorry for himself.  _ They’re the two most incredible people I know, of course they’d appreciate each other. _

They deserve whatever happiness they can get. Bodhi resolves not to get in the way.

* * *

That’s easier said than done. Bodhi knows Cassian was behind switching him off the Jedha mission, which makes it likely that the spy is responsible for Bodhi and Luke working several new missions together. Bodhi loves the time spent with the Jedi, but he can’t help but wonder if Cassian just doesn’t want to work with him any more.

On the other end of things, they all try to socialize as a group - impressively, Luke often succeeds in getting Cassian involved - but it doesn’t take Bodhi long to notice that Luke keeps excusing himself from Bodhi’s presence. It makes sense, he guesses. Luke’s probably picked up on Bodhi’s attraction and doesn’t want to send mixed signals.

Even knowing that, it’s hard to remember sometimes, especially in the face of Luke’s ebullience and Cassian’s growing comfort with interaction. When either of them does something particularly lovely, Bodhi has to talk himself down from confessing on the spot.

* * *

Soon Bodhi and Han are assigned another mission together, thank the stars. It’s a relatively low-risk job delivering medical supplies to a rebel cell and bringing intelligence back. Both play their parts well. Han is a model operative, probably just to spite Leia and her pessimistic briefing, and Bodhi is glad that something’s going smoothly for once.

He shouldn’t have thought it. As they’re lifting off, a shuttle with far too many guns swoops out of nowhere and starts shooting up the landing pads. Their nondescript Rho-class shuttle takes a hit to the port engine, and they spin out. It’s only Bodhi’s quick reactions that put them down in a street rather than through someone’s roof.

“Black Sun,” Han mutters, unclasping his harness and grabbing essential supplies. “We gotta get out of here, find a place to hide.”

“Why are they after us?” Bodhi asks, wiping the ship’s nav computer of all the rebel coordinates. “Did someone sell us out?”

There’s a muffled boom, and Bodhi watches in frozen shock as a rocket launches from somewhere nearby and hits the Black Sun shuttle. There’s an explosion, and then there’s blaster fire from several directions at once.

“Not after us,” Han says, though he doesn’t sound relieved. “I think we got caught in a turf war. Come on!”

He hustles Bodhi out of the ship, both of them keeping low, and they find shelter in an alley moments before a stray grenade hits their shuttle. Bodhi’s heart pounds in his chest and his lungs strain to get enough air. He looks at Han, because Han wasn’t on Scarif and that might keep Bodhi in the present.

It seems to work. Han leads Bodhi deeper into the warren of streets, and Bodhi’s breathing evens out the farther they get from blaster fire. When he can take in his surroundings without starting to slide into panic, Bodhi sends out a distress call on Alliance frequencies. 

“We’re about a full day from base,” he tells Han. “Can we hole up for that long?”

Han frowns, thinking, and finally nods. “I know a place.”

* * *

By the next morning, however, the whole village has been overtaken by the gang war - Black Sun against Kanjiklub. The rebels have had to abandon several hiding spots, and Bodhi is starting to worry that soon there might not be any safe place left. He starts scanning the comm frequencies, listening for pilot chatter. Maybe he can convince someone to take them off planet, or maybe they can steal a ship.

Han has spent most of his time keeping watch and talking his way into people’s cellars and back rooms.

All morning Bodhi flips through channel after channel, all up and down the frequencies, hoping that someone somewhere has an open line. 

He almost curses himself when he finds one. It’s a frequency he knows very well.

“Imperials just showed up,” he says, quiet. Han stiffens. 

It’s a few more minutes before the cruiser is visible from the ground, and that’s when their current host sends them packing.

“Let’s make for the landing pads,” Bodhi says. “There has to be something.” 

Han seems skeptical, but doesn’t argue. None of his other contacts are willing to hide them. 

They get halfway there and then have to hide in a burned-out market stall while Stormtroopers chase gang operatives through the streets. So far they’re only shooting people in body armor, but it’s only a matter of time before the Imps start going door to door.

After a long, long wait, they get going again. As they approach the landing pads, Bodhi’s spirits lift when he sees what looks like an intact freighter. Sticking to cover makes the last hundred meters painfully slow going, but they manage.

They make it. They make it onto the ship.

The engines won’t run. The ship is out of fuel.

Han slaps the console. “You gotta be kidding me!”

“I think we passed some fuel cells,” Bodhi says, and gets back up to leave. “I’ll go get a couple. You hold off anyone who tries to get on.”

“You better come back in one piece!” Han says, finger in Bodhi’s face. “Anything happens to you and your whole crew will take turns feeding me to the wampas. Luke, too.”

Which is a very interesting statement, but Bodhi’s going to have to ask Han about it later. Bodhi darts out, sticking to cover for the most part but prioritizing speed. He’s to the cells in a couple of minutes, activates the hover function on two of them - that will be enough to get away and he can’t realistically move more than that - and starts hauling them back the five blocks to the ship.

Four Stormtroopers round the corner. Bodhi freezes.

“Stop! What are you doing with those?” the leader asks.

Bodhi swallows. “We need to refuel,” he say, pulse hammering but voice steady. “We already paid for them, but then the shooting started and the seller just left them out where anyone could grab them.”

“He looks familiar,” one of the others says. Bodhi tries not to panic.

The sergeant takes a closer look. “You need to come with us for questioning.”

Adrenaline spikes through Bodhi. “I left my scandocs on my ship,” he says, still outwardly calm, moving slowly to not spook the Imperials. “Why don’t you come back there with me?”

The sergeant raises his arm, and time slows down for Bodhi. Two of the other Stormtroopers step forward, and without thinking about it Bodhi shoves a fuel cell hard into their legs. Then he lunges backwards, dragging the other cell behind him, wondering where the hell Han is.

He hears an engine overhead and curses. Should he ditch the fuel? If it’s hit, he and the city block are done for.

Then again, it’s not as if living in Imperial custody will be fun or even last very long, so he keeps a grip on the fuel and keeps running. The Stormtroopers behind him have gotten to their feet and are chasing him, too.

Bodhi rounds the corner, sees the ship and Han waiting by the ramp. Han sees him, too, raises his blaster, and starts running to meet him. Bodhi ducks as the smuggler gets off a few shots at the ‘troopers in pursuit. He doesn’t bother looking back to see if any of them went down, just keeps running, hoping that whatever ship is coming in won’t take an interest.

The engine sounds get closer, and Bodhi is surprised by yet another adrenaline spike that lets him pour on speed. He clutches the fuel cell tight and prays for luck. The ship sounds like it’s right on top of him.

The wind displaced by the ship blows over Bodhi from behind, and he ducks a little, pointlessly, but then the Alliance’s last U-wing is making a ridiculously tight turn right over the shuttle he and Han were trying to steal. A few shots go over Bodhi’s head, and screams behind him - too close behind him, stars - let him know that there are definitely fewer Stormtroopers now.

The U-wing turns in the air, the door opens, and Bodhi could cry with how beautiful Cassian looks standing in the opening, hair whipped by the wind, cargo webbing around his waist, blaster in one hand, the other sharply urging Bodhi forward. Han darts to the U-wing and Cassian gives him an arm up, and then Bodhi abandons the fuel and runs full out.

The seconds to the ship are long and drawn out, but also nonexistent. Bodhi jumps with arms outstretched, grabs Cassian’s hands, and is pulled inside.

Cassian doesn’t let go of Bodhi even as he slams a fist on the door control and shouts to the cockpit, “We’ve got them, go!”

Bodhi expects to be released once the door is shut, or maybe poured into a jump seat, but Cassian pulls him into a fierce hug instead. Bodhi responds awkwardly, unsure where to put his hands, but Cassian’s arms are around his waist and shoulders, and doesn’t let go even as Bodhi wavers.

Bodhi gives in, curls his fists into the back of Cassian’s jacket, presses his forehead against his shoulder. All sorts of g-forces are being exerted in numerous directions as the ship ascends and dodges and at least two people are yelling about something, but Cassian just grabs a hand-hold behind Bodhi and keeps hugging him. Bodhi doesn’t care, either. He lets himself take shelter in the embrace, confusing as it is. He’s never seen Cassian hug anyone, let alone been the recipient.

Is Cassian really this affected by Bodhi?

Does this mean -

Does Cassian -

Bodhi cuts off the speculation. He asks instead. “Cassian?”

Cassian’s arm tightens around Bodhi and his voice rumbles in his ear. “You’re alright? No injuries?”

“I’m alright.”

Cassian exhales all at once and pulls Bodhi even closer, face mashed against the side of Bodhi’s head. “I was afraid I’d lost you.”

Heart soaring, Bodhi lets his hands uncurl on Cassian’s back. “You didn’t.”

He feels the familiar half-lurch of the jump to hyperspace, and then there’s a fluttering touch at his shoulder.

Bodhi looks up and smiles broadly when he sees Luke. “This explains the reckless flying.”

Luke’s face goes from concerned to outraged in half a second. “Don’t you talk to me about reckless! What were you thinking, dragging explosive fuel cells across an open area in the middle of a fire fight?”

He looks more upset than Bodhi’s ever seen him. Cassian steps back, hands lingering on Bodhi before breaking contact. Bodhi doesn’t want him to go, but it does feel odd talking to Luke from someone else’s arms.

“That we needed them to get the ship off the ground? I didn’t know you were coming. I wasn’t going to just sit quietly until -”

“Shut up,” Luke says, the tears in his eyes cutting Bodhi off more effectively than any argument. “I know, okay, I know you’re brave and smart and do what needs to be done, I just hate it when you’re in danger. I hate it.” He’s so close, a distant part of Bodhi notes, and his hands are on Bodhi’s face, fingers sliding into his hair. Luke leans closer, and closer, and then his lips are warm on Bodhi’s.

Frozen in surprise and feeling more than a little conflicted, Bodhi considers pulling back so they can all  _ talk  _ about this - apparently there’s something to talk  _ about  _ \- but then Luke’s tenderness gives way to urgency as he sucks Bodhi’s lower lip into his mouth. It scrambles Bodhi’s brain, drives out the coherent thoughts, and then he’s opening to Luke, letting their tongues curl together, hands going around Luke’s waist. Luke pours his heart into the kiss, adoration and terror and relief, and Bodhi can’t help but answer with all the pent-up admiration and joy Luke inspires in him.

He has no idea how long it lasts, only that one of Luke’s hands leaves his face and darts out  before he breaks the kiss.

“Sorry,” he says to Cassian, who’s trying to pull out of Luke’s hold on his sleeve, poorly-concealed anguish on his face. It cuts Bodhi’s heart to see, so he reaches out too, takes Cassian’s hand.

“I’m sorry too,” Bodhi says, hoping he can make his meaning clear. That his meaning is enough. “Please don’t go. I - I care about both of you.” He swallows, darts glances between Luke and Cassian, and takes a deep breath. “I have feelings for both of you.”

Luke smiles, bright and golden. Cassian’s expression loses a little pain and he stops trying to pull away.

Bodhi, keeping one hand in Luke’s, steps towards Cassian. “I’ve been thinking,” he says, eyes locked on Cassian’s. “People say love isn’t real unless it’s only for one person, but I don’t think that’s true. We can love more than one ideal, more than one child, more than one job, so why not more than one partner?” He reaches a hand up but hesitates before touching Cassian’s face. “I...I understand if you don’t feel the same. I know it’s not for everyone. But...I hope you can believe that you’re important to me, Cassian.”

Cassian’s expression softens. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” he admits. Glances at Luke, then back to Bodhi. “But I’m willing to try.”

Bodhi beams and sees Luke grinning from the corner of his eye. Then he steps closer and leans up slowly so Cassian can stop him if he wants to.

Cassian doesn’t stop him.

Bodhi kisses Cassian gently, lips just barely parted, and closes them softly around Cassian’s. Cassian is standing almost completely still, and in anyone else Bodhi would interpret that as a lack of desire or willingness, but Cassian’s fingers are curling around Bodhi’s waist and his head is tilting to accommodate him. His stillness feels like he’s trying to make himself the perfect canvass for the kiss, like he’s trying to study it before he changes it.

Fingers closing around the nape of Cassian’s neck, Bodhi pulls him closer and deepens the kiss. Cassian lets him. When Bodhi’s tongue touches his it’s like the rush of jumping to hyperspace for the first time, and Cassian ignites, making a hungry noise and pulling their bodies together, sucking and licking at Bodhi’s mouth, setting Bodhi’s blood on fire. As warm as Luke was Bodhi isn’t ready for the blast furnace of Cassian’s want, the way he somehow communicates intensity with each touch of his hands and mouth. He’s lost in it, happy to melt, happy for the heat to burn through him to his bones.

When they finally break for air, they’re both breathing hard. Cassian rests his forehead against Bodhi’s, cradling his jaw.

When his breathing is something like normal again, Bodhi looks over at Luke.

The Jedi is staring at him and Cassian, eyes wide, bottom lip between his teeth, cheeks flushed.

Cassian laughs. “Like what you see?”

Luke blinks, glances between the two of them. “I...wow. That was...wow.”

Now Bodhi laughs, and then he and Cassian both reach out to pull Luke into an embrace. It takes less readjusting than Bodhi would have thought to get them all comfortable. Luke’s arm is around his waist, Cassian’s around his shoulders, and it makes Bodhi’s heart feel full in ways he didn’t know it could.

“Maybe I should get stranded more often,” he says, smiling.

“Don’t you dare,” Luke growls.

“You’re not funny,” Cassian says at the same time.

Hands tightening on both of them, Bodhi laughs.

* * *

* * *

Han helps Luke get them off that forsaken rock, and then leans back in his chair once they’ve jumped to hyperspace. The relief is still washing over him when he hears familiar but unexpected noises. He turns to look over the chair, catches an eyeful of what looks like a card-sharp sandwich, and turns back to face the windshield, chuckling. Those three have been driving him crazy for weeks, but he’d been right. Now Leia owes him a private dinner.

“I’m fine, by the way,” he yells back. “Thanks for asking!”

All three of them laugh, and Han grins to himself as he puts his feet up on the pilot’s chair.


End file.
